Legacy of the Royals
by hazelmom
Summary: Tim struggles to save his relationship with his father. Some McAbby.
1. Chapter 1

16

16

A/N: This is a different kind of story and it's personal for me. I am not sure how it will translate for you, but if you like it, let me know. It should be 4-6 long chapters. Sheila

Legacy of the Royals

Chapter 1

McGee looked at the time on his computer and then at Gibbs. Gibbs was still deep in a file he was reading. They had a lunch date. He'd formally asked him over email and confirmed in person to lunch at 1 p.m. on the 5th of October. It was now 1:10 p.m. and the boss wasn't moving. McGee could say something, but that would bring attention to the fact he was taking the boss to lunch- a fact he'd carefully concealed from DiNozzo. There would be questions and teasing, and this lunch was nobody else's business.

He shifted again in his chair and considered a strategic clearing of the throat when Tony called out. "What's up with you, McADHD? Got ants in your pants?"

McGee blushed and concentrated on his screen. He caught a glimpse of Gibbs and thought he saw the man's mouth twitch as if to suppress a smile.

"Okay, what's up, McGeek? You act like you got a date or something."

McGee was trying to formulate a response when Gibbs took off his glasses and stood. "In fact, DiNozzo, he does have a date. I asked him to lunch."

That got everyone's attention. Quality time with the boss came at a premium. Even Ziva looked up. It was moments like these that clarified why McGee would take a bullet for the man. He got up and collected his backpack and gun just in case they got a call out while at lunch.

"Why does he get a lunch with you? I've never had lunch with you. In fact, you don't go out to lunch with anybody. Is this a new thing? Are you going to be asking me and Ziva to lunch as well? Sort of a 'thanks for all the hard work' thing."

"Nope," Gibbs said as he strode past Tony's desk, McGee scrambling along after him.

…..

Gibbs peered at him over a half eaten steak sandwich. "Okay, what's on your mind, McGee? Paying for a nice restaurant and everything- I haven't been wooed this much since wife #3 set her sights on me. You got a job offer you want to tell me about? Vance promised me he wasn't going to make any more offers without letting me know about them. That Okinawa thing really took me by surprise."

McGee finished chewing a bite from his chicken sandwich. "It's nothing like that. I'd never take another job without talking to you first, Boss."

"I don't want you turning down good offers because of your loyalty to the team."

"I'm good, Boss. Seriously."

"So am I supposed to guess what inspired this lunch invitation?"

McGee put down his half eaten sandwich and nodded. "Well, I was going…to talk to you about how much you work. You know, I want to talk to you about…taking better care of yourself."

Gibbs' brows went up. "This from the guy whom I have to tell to go home every evening."

McGee considered his reply carefully. "I'm young, and I still have a lot to prove."

"Not to me."

McGee looked down at his plate for a long moment. "I'll just say it then. I think you should take some time off."

"Okay?" Gibbs watched him closely.

"And I have just the thing for you. I think you should take 3 days next week."

Gibbs blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," McGee couldn't meet his eyes. "You see, I won this raffle and I got a two night vacation at a resort in the mountains, and it has to be for next week, and I can't use it so I thought you could use it. It would give you a chance to recharge."

"In the middle of a work week."

"You got plenty of vacation time, Boss."

"And it has to be next week?"

"Yeah, those are the dates on the tickets. It's a good resort and there's fishing and…they have a restaurant. It'll be relaxing for you."

"Why can't you go?"

"Uh…I'm saving up my vacation time."

"Really. Last I checked you'd banked close to 35 days. What are you planning to do- take a trip around the world?"

McGee blushed and focused on his sandwich.

Gibbs leaned forward. "I try to tell myself that your inability to lie well is restricted to your relationship with me. I hope to hell you'll be better at it if I ever put you undercover."

McGee looked up, frowning. "Can't you just take the damn trip?"

"No. If I call them, I bet I'm going to find out that it's been paid for with your credit card, Tim. Why do you want me out of the way next week? Could it be the admiral's upcoming visit?"

McGee's eyes widened. "How did you know? He already contacted Vance, didn't he?"

"Yes he did. I got the email this morning." Gibbs pushed his plate away. "So you don't want your father to meet me."

McGee frowned. "It's not like that, Boss. My dad is…he doesn't understand what I do and why I do it. He doesn't…understand you."

Gibbs sat back in the booth and nodded. "Okay. I think I get it. Your father doesn't like me, correct?"

"He doesn't know you."

"Exactly. Plenty of people don't like me, but they usually wait until they meet me first. Your dad is ahead of the curve here."

"It's not you." McGee looked miserable.

"Tim, I know you and your dad don't talk very much. I also get the feeling that the two of you used to be close."

McGee looked down at the table. "It's complicated."

"Yeah, but somehow I'm in the middle of it so it would be helpful for me to know a little bit more."

He sighed. "I was always a good son. Tried to do what my dad wanted. Wanted to make him proud, but I'm not really built to be part of the admiralty. My dad says he let me go to FLETC as a means of toughening me. I worked at Norkolk while he- we considered my options, and then you put me on your team. Being on your team was no picnic but I felt like I belonged. I loved the work."

"And your dad got mad at this?"

"Right after Kate died, he came to town to see me. He'd found a place for me. An amazing offer, really. He got me a spot at Stanford working on submarine technology. I could work for the Navy and earn my doctorate at the same time."

Gibbs studied him carefully. "Sounds perfect for you."

He nodded. "I know. A great opportunity. The problem was that I already liked what I was doing, and you were teaching me how to be my own man and I liked that. I passed on his offer. We didn't talk for seven years after that."

"He blames me for this."

McGee winced. "I might as well tell you the extent of it. He calls you a Svengali. Says that I have a slavish devotion to you."

Gibbs looked at him with raised eyebrows. "You've tried to tell him this is nonsense?"

"Oh yeah."

"Why is your dad coming to visit?"

"I don't know. He says he wants to discuss a project with Vance, but he and I have been talking more lately, and he's been strange. I'm sort of worried about him."

"Okay. Good to know."

McGee leaned forward. "Boss, I just don't want him to be rude to you when he comes. You don't deserve that."

Gibbs snorted. "Don't worry about me. Your dad is not going to hurt my feelings. You need to focus on fixing your relationship with him. Dads are important. Reconnecting with my dad was one of the best decisions I ever made."

…..

"Timmy! Timmy! I heard your dad is coming." Abby appeared in the bullpen, ponytails bouncing.

McGee looked up, startled. "How did you find that out?"

"Pamela. I can't wait to meet him."

A smile spread across Tony's face. "The Great Santini is coming! I can't wait to see this."

Abby cocked her head. "Why didn't you tell us he was coming?"

"Uh, he's only going to be here for a couple of hours. It hardly qualifies for a visit."

Gibbs took his glasses off, watching McGee carefully.

"But McGee, it is an event for us. Your grandmother was so charming," Ziva said.

"Well, my dad is never going to be described as charming."

"What should I wear, Tim? I want to impress him. He's an admiral so no skulls or spikes. I want to look good for him."

McGee shrugged. "I think you always look good. Besides, he probably won't have time to get down to your lab."

She stomped her foot. "Come on! Help me out here! I don't want him to get the wrong impression."

McGee threw up his arms. "It doesn't matter what he thinks. Who cares if he likes you or not?!"

"I care, McGee. I've always wanted to meet your mom and dad, and I don't want to screw it up." Abby bit her lower lip.

"Abby, if I had my way, he wouldn't be coming at all. You don't know him. He's a… not a…easy kind of person."

"You don't think he'll like me, do you? You're embarrassed to introduce him to me, aren't you?"

He stood. "No Abs, it's not that. I'm never embarrassed…you're the greatest. It's not about you. I promise."

"It doesn't sound that way to me." Her chin trembled and then she ran out of the bullpen.

"Abs!" He called after her but she'd already disappeared into an open elevator. He turned to Gibbs. "Boss, can I go down to the lab?"

He shook his head. "Get back to work. You need to save this personal nonsense for later."

McGee sat down slowly. He looked over at Ziva. "What did I say wrong?"

She looked at Gibbs and then mouthed. "We'll talk later."

"And you're supposed to be the sensitive one, McScrew-up. Way to go," Tony muttered under his breath.

Gibbs looked up sharply. "I swear to God, DiNozzo, if you don't get an address on our suspect in the next ten minutes, I'm going to head slap you into next week."

…..

Two hours later, Dorneget walked into the bullpen carrying a bouquet of purple roses. He walked up to McGee's desk and held them out. "I believe these are for you."

McGee looked around Dorneget at Gibbs. "Twenty minutes, Boss? I hate it when she's mad at me."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Fifteen and I'm timing you."

"I thought Abby liked black roses," Tony said.

"She likes all kinds of unique things, Tony," McGee said as he grabbed the bouquet from Dornie and headed for the elevator.

He walked into her lab while she was working on some samples and cleared his throat. She looked up at him and the bouquet and blinked, "Purple?"

He shrugged. "Everyone always gets you black. I wanted to bring you something new."

"Gibbs let you come down?"

"He knows that the work suffers when we're fighting."

"We're not fighting, Tim. You hurt my feelings. There's a difference."

He walked up and put the flowers in her arms. "My dad and I don't get along very well. You know that. I'm nervous that he's going to come and be critical of my life here and the things I love."

She breathed in the roses and looked at him. "The things you love?"

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

He couldn't meet her eyes. "I think it's just a scary conversation for both of us, and if we got up the courage to have it, I don't know what might happen. Don't you ever wonder about that?"

She nodded. He looked down at his watch. "I gotta' be back at my desk in 4 minutes. When my dad comes, I promise that you'll meet him, but I don't want you to dress special. I just want you to be you. Okay?"

She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Okay, Timmy."

…

"Dress whites," Tony remarked as the group stepped out of the elevator.

McGee's head popped up from his work. Three men and a woman appeared in their dress whites followed by a tall man with salt and pepper hair and intense brown eyes. McGee's gut seized. He whispered, "Surprise inspection. I should've known."

Tony's eyes widened. "He doesn't look much like you."

Ziva stood and looked over her partition. "He is quite distinguished."

"Looks like he brought his posse," Tony observed.

Tim stood, sighing deeply as a middle-aged commander strode forward and captured his hand. "Tim, it's been too long!"

"Hey Willie. I thought you'd be out of this game by now."

The man smiled. "What would happen if we left the old man to his own devices?"

Tim smiled softly. "Too scary to contemplate, I'm sure."

The uniforms parted and the dark eyes took a moment to look him over. Tim responded in kind. He noted the extra pounds around his father's waist and he hesitated at the cane his father leaned on heavily.

"What's wrong with your leg, Dad?"

"It's been a long time, Son. You look good."

"And you look like you got a bad leg. Wanna' tell me about it."

Admiral McGee grunted. "An old injury aggravated by age and too many donuts."

"Isn't that the cane that Grandpa used when he got sick?"

"Timothy! Focus! I haven't seen you in almost eight years."

Tim blinked. "You're a day early."

"Couldn't risk that you would find a way to be unavailable."

"Come on, Dad. Do we need an audience for this?"

The admiral turned to Tony and extended a hand. "I take it that you are the incomparable Anthony DiNozzo Jr."

"Yes sir, I am," Tony said as the man shook his hand firmly.

"My son says you always have his back."

"He does?"

"It's a pleasure meet such a good friend of Tim's."

Before Tony could react, the admiral had turned to Ziva. "And you must be the lovely Ziva David. I've met your father many times and I have great respect for him."

"I didn't realize," she said.

He grasped her hand in both of his, smiling warmly. "Tim is lucky to have such a fierce and loyal friend."

"He inspires that in people, Admiral."

"I have no doubt." The admiral's eyes scanned the room. "And where is the great and mighty Gibbs?"

"He didn't realize you were storming the beaches this morning. I believe he is up with Director Vance."

The admiral's eyes scanned the bullpen. "This is your work space or are there offices?"

Tim stiffened. "This is our space."

"And that is your desk?"

Tim glanced back at his corner space. "Yes."

"My file clerk has a better desk than that and an office."

"Dad, I am part of a Major Case Response Team. I am in the field a good deal of the time, and it is not conducive to teamwork for us to be in separate offices."

"But this is the same desk you had nine years ago."

Tim took a deep breath but before he could respond, a familiar voice sounded behind the admiral. "Yes, it is, Admiral and it's the same chair although I can say that he's gone through three different computers in that time. I should know as it took a helluva' lot of finagling to get them replaced."

The admiral turned. "Special Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs extended a hand. "Admiral McGee."

The admiral nodded as they shook hands. "You're exactly the steely-eyed bastard I imagined you'd be."

"Likewise, Admiral."

For a moment, the two men studied each other silently. Then Vance appeared. "Admiral, it's good to finally meet you."

"Director Vance, thank you for rescheduling my visit on such short notice."

"Not a problem. We're all set up in the conference room upstairs."

The admiral turned to Tim. "My time in D.C. is short, and I am sorry it is rather packed with meetings. I'm being whored out to lobbyists and legislators regarding some new propulsion technologies. I've cleared my schedule this evening for an early dinner. I have drinks with a couple of weasels from Boeing at 9 p.m. Can you make it at around 6 p.m.?"

Tim hesitated. "We're in the middle of a case, Dad."

"It's been eight years."

"He'll be available," Gibbs said.

The admiral flashed eyes at him. "Thank you so much for your permission, Gibbs."

Tim held his breath as his father turned and followed Vance up the stairs, his staff trailing behind. He turned to Gibbs. "I'm sorry, Boss."

"Please. That wasn't nothing at all, McGee. Now get back to work."

….

"He was kind of mesmerizing, you know."

"Let it go, Tony. He is just a man."

Tony shook his head. "He's like Gibbs except he's not. Gibbs is a lone wolf while the admiral is a rock star with an entourage. He could probably order a missile strike on Gibbs' house if he wanted."

Ziva shrugged. "Gibbs would undoubtedly survive, and then take him out with a single shot between the eyes. It is an even match."

"I kind of liked him. I mean, I really liked him."

She sighed. "He is very confident- charming even."

"Doesn't remind me of McGee at all. Do you think Probie's adopted?"

The elevator opened and Ziva threw her pen at him. "Shhhh! He's back from dinner."

McGee walked past both of them, head down.

"Hey McProdigal Son! How was dinner with the admiral?"

McGee ignored him as he opened his computer.

Ziva frowned. "McGee, was dinner okay?"

Tim looked up, his face deeply flushed. "Please don't ask me about it."

There was almost a desperate tone to his voice and it shut his teammates down. They all returned to work on leads, and after awhile Gibbs drifted in and sat at his desk. He could sense the tension but said nothing.

Finally Tony looked up at the clock and sighed. "It's 9 p.m. I say we knock off for the night. We haven't gone out for a drink as a team for a while. What do you say we go to O'Gara's for a cold one before we go home?"

"Yes, let's do that," Ziva said as she packed up her desk. There's nothing here that can't wait for the morning."

Tim looked up. "I was already out to dinner. Need to catch up on some things. I'm going to have to pass."

"Come on, Probie. It's clear you had a rough night. We won't pry. Seriously. I'm buying."

McGee shook his head. "Not tonight. Thanks guys."

"Are you sure?"

Gibbs looked up. "Tony, that's enough. We'll see the two of you tomorrow."

He waited until the bullpen was empty and then he nodded at McGee. "How did it go?"

McGee rubbed at his face. "It was terrible."

"Spill."

"He offered me another job. Jet propulsion this time at UC-Davis. It would be only an hour away from him and my mom."

"Tim, you love jet propulsion technology."

"Yeah, I do."

"He wants you near home."

"It would be a disaster. We can't be civil for a few short hours. How the hell would we handle seeing each other on a regular basis?"

"He loves you. He's your father and he wants you nearby. This is a good thing."

"Do you think we didn't see each other all this time just because I was avoiding him? He's just as bad. I don't want to hate him, Boss."

"Tim, think about all the years I lost with my dad because we were a couple of stubborn fools. Don't make that mistake."

McGee swallowed. "I don't know what to do. I can't take that job. It's not the path I've chosen for my life. I have to be my own man. I want so hard for this to work, but when I see him, the resentment just boils over."

"Take it slow. The two of you have time."

McGee shook his head. "I don't think we do, Boss. I think my dad is dying."

Gibbs straightened. "What did he say?"

"Nothing but you saw him with that cane."

"People don't die of limps, Tim."

"It's my Grandfather's cane. He started using it when I was 12 and he died when I was 13. He had ALS, a motor neuron disease, otherwise known as Lou Gehrig's disease. He and Penny were living on base near us at the time. I got to see him almost every day. It's such a dreadful disease. It steals muscle strength not only from your limbs but from your lungs and other organs as well. Your body just shuts down bit by bit, but your brain stays sharp the whole time. It was terrible to see him like that."

"It still doesn't mean he has ALS."

"There's a type of ALS that's inherited. There was some reason to believe that my grandfather had that type. Penny talked to me about it once. I hacked into my dad's schedule this evening when I got back. My dad had an appointment at the Georgetown University ALS clinic tonight. He has a follow up appointment in a couple of days."

"You can't hack for answers to everything. It's not right. You have to talk to him."

Tim picked up his backpack and swung it over his shoulder. He stood up, his face sad and weary. "I can't think of a single thing to say to the man. I need to go home and be alone for a while, Boss."

Gibbs watched as he slowly walked out of the bullpen.

…..

The hope chest he was working on was cherry wood. He loved how the stain brought out the rich red hues, and he took his time making sure that it got an even coat. He knew he was going to have to explain the concept of a hope chest to Ziva when he gave it to her, but he also knew how deeply she would appreciate the handcrafted gift. It was 1 a.m. and he should've knocked off by now. He had recently committed to getting at least 5 hours of sleep a night, but he couldn't get McGee's sad eyes out of his head.

Creaking sounded on the steps, and his head shot up. He couldn't think who would be visiting at this time of night. Loafers appeared and then slacks, and Gibbs put down his brush as Admiral James McGee appeared. The admiral was out of uniform and in casual clothes as he stepped off the stairs into Gibbs' basement. "Vance had to convince me that it would be acceptable to walk into your house uninvited and go down to your basement. I apologize for the intrusion."

Gibbs nodded. "It's acceptable. What can I do for you, Admiral?"

"I need help with my son. You seem to understand him better than I do."

Gibbs pulled his bourbon off a shelf and emptied a coffee mug. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"Under the circumstances, it would be most welcome," the admiral said as he accepted the cup.

"Tim told me about the job offer."

"You think I'm here to enlist your help in getting him to take it, but I'm not. It was a boneheaded move on my part. I know he's trying to be his own man. Sometimes, my need to control gets the better of me."

"He's not just a field agent. He's very special."

"That's what Vance tells me. I get caught up in what I see as his potential and I'm afraid I worry that his loyalty to you is going to come before his good judgment."

"I'm not trying to hold him back. He does very important work, and when he's ready to move on, I'll be the first one to encourage him."

"He told me you would say that."

Gibbs sighed. "My relationship with my father has been rocky, but we've reconnected, and that's meant everything to me. I know how important it is to Tim to have you in his life, and the last thing I want to do is to interfere with that."

"I have to stop seeing you as competition. I need to make you an ally."

"I'm Tim's ally first and foremost. If you're straight with him, I'll do whatever I can to help."

"What does that mean?"

"He knows about your visit to the ALS clinic. He's very worried."

McGee groaned. "Damn him. I'm not even going to ask what he did to get at my personal information."

"I didn't know about it until after he did it."

"I don't have ALS, Gibbs."

"You were struggling down those stairs, and those appointments suggest otherwise."

"I have an old hamstring injury confirmed by an orthopedist and a neurologist at the ALS clinic."

"After you're done yelling at him about hacking your schedule, you be sure to tell him that."

Admiral McGee surprised him by sitting down on the stairs. "He has no idea what's really going on, and if I can help it, he'll never know."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Are you sick, Admiral?"

"No, but I think he might be."

Gibbs tensed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"My father had ALS, and his brother died of it many years earlier. That suggests that it's a rare form of ALS that's familial. Researchers have found a gene mutation in people with familial ALS. Not everyone carries it, but the people who do have an increased chance of getting the disease. I've had genetic testing done on me, and I carry that mutation."

"So you could very well get the disease."

"I'm sixty five years old. The peak time for the onset of symptoms passed me by five years ago. My doctor thinks it's unlikely that I will get sick at this point."

Gibbs closed his eyes. "You think Tim has this mutation."

"I don't know, but in a few years, he's going to enter the peak time for the onset of symptoms."

"And you want him to get tested."

The admiral grunted. "Without his knowledge. I don't want him to live with this hanging over his head. It would be too much of a burden."

"How are you going to do this without his permission?"

He shrugged. "I'm an admiral. I got a sample of his DNA from the Navy. It's already being tested. I'll get the results in two days."

"What about Sarah?"

"She was in a car accident last year. I got a sample from the hospital and sent it in. She's safe."

"Admiral, it's probably best not to know."

He shook his head. "I can't help it. I am consumed by this. He's my son, and as much as we struggle, I only want his happiness."

"If he has this gene mutation, is there anything that can be done to prevent him from getting sick?"

The admiral shook his head slowly. Gibbs could see the pain set deeply in his eyes.

"Then what good can this possibly do?"

"I want the nightmares to stop. I keep picturing him sick and struggling to breath…" He closed his eyes and swallowed. "And if he ever decides to have children, he should know that there is a risk of passing it on."

"If you had known about the mutation you had, maybe you wouldn't have had Tim and Sarah. What a loss that would've been to the world."

"You want me to know that this is an old man's obsession and you're probably right."

"Admiral, you and I don't know what the next week is going to bring, let alone the next 20 years. This predicting the future business is no good."

"What if it was your Kelly? What would you do?"

Gibbs flinched. The man had done his homework on him, and it left him unsettled. He took another swig off the bottle of bourbon.

"Gibbs, can you help me reconnect with my son?"

Gibbs looked at him long and hard. "Maybe, but you're going to have to clear your head of everything you think you knew about him, and get to know who he is now."

He nodded slowly. "I can't waste any more time. I'll do it"

Gibbs shook his head. "This is a bad idea, but I'm going to try it for him."

"Anything."

"Cancel your schedule for the next two days. I want you in the bullpen at 8 a.m. tomorrow, civilian dress. You're going to spend the next two days on my team watching your son in action. You get out of line just once and I'll boot you so fast, it'll make your head spin. I'm not playing, Admiral."

"Either we're going to end this thing as friends or I'm going to be looking to meet up with you in a back alley to beat your ass when this is all over."

"Your choice, Admiral."

He snorted. "If I'm going to be your bitch for the next two days, you might as well start calling me Jim."

…

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This story is personal to me because my father died of ALS, and I've been thinking about him a lot lately. However, my father is lucky because he had what they call sporadic ALS which means there is no inherited gene. I hope that you like the story. I am trying to inject as much life as possible into it so it doesn't come off as morose. Sheila

Legacy of the Royals

Chapter 2

DiNozzo came in half an hour early the next morning. The look on Probie's face had bothered him all night, and he felt compelled to bring a little kindness into his partner's life. He pulled two napkins out of the bag in his hand, put them on McGee's desk, and then put a frosted donut with sprinkles on each napkin.

"How does he stay so slim if you're feeding him donuts every morning?"

Tony looked up to see Admiral McGee standing there in a blue button down shirt and tan slacks. He blinked, "Ah, you're not in uniform."

"People think admirals are like priests, always dressed in uniform, but that's not the case. In fact, today I'm not an admiral at all. I'm actually going to be riding along with your team for the next couple of days."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Gibbs set it up." He extended a hand. "Call me Jim."

Tony shook his hand warily.

James McGee raised an eyebrow. "You seem hesitant."

"I don't bring him donuts every morning. Most of the time, I'm teasing or harassing your son. I don't know if he's ever told you that. I do that because I'm a jackass, but also because I love him like a brother. I didn't like the look on his face last night after he got back from dinner with you. Today, I don't feel like teasing him. I just want to protect him."

"I meant what I said yesterday. He's lucky to have you in his life. I'm a little envious, in fact. I'm trying to get close to him again…l want what you all have with him."

"Admiral."

Both men turned to find Commander Wilson in the bullpen. McGee tensed. "Wilson, I left you 10 minutes ago. Seriously, I need to have these two days. Vance gave you office space. I need you to run things without me."

Wilson held up a phone. "SecNav wants to talk to you."

James McGee grabbed the phone from him and stalked off to a place near the windows. Tony watched the casually dressed admiral pace while he talked on the phone. While he couldn't hear the conversation itself, it was clear that the admiral was neither happy nor afraid to tell Jarvis exactly how he felt. Tony leaned over to Wilson, "The admiral is no joke."

Wilson grinned. "Tell me about it."

McGee closed the phone and marched back into the bullpen, handing it back to Wilson. "Jarvis understands I have a family situation. He'll be happy to have you represent me at the Congressional luncheon today."

"Yes, Admiral." Wilson turned to leave.

"Willy."

"Admiral?"

"Do what you can to let me have these two days, okay?"

Wilson nodded. "Got it, Sir."

The admiral found a chair and wheeled it over to DiNozzo's desk. "Can you brief me on this case you're working?"

DiNozzo handed him a donut from his bag. "Marine Corporal Jennifer Bennett was found dead in Prescott Park two nights ago. The park is near the Navy yard. There's a ten mile jogging trail that lots of Marines use. She was found in her workout gear strangled. At the outset, it looked like a predator, but she was jogging with her boyfriend, Master Sergeant Steven Miller at the time. He claims that he jogged ahead because she wasn't keeping pace. When she didn't catch up, he went back to look for her, and found her dead."

"You think it's him."

DiNozzo shrugged. "Man has a history of domestic violence. One of Bennett's friends told us yesterday that Bennett was getting ready to leave him because of his violence. Gibbs is going to put him into interrogation today."

James McGee frowned. "I hate to hear that a member of our armed services is a common murderer."

"In my experience, soldiers aren't any better or worse than anyone else."

"Well, we oughta' be."

"Yeah," Tony said as he finished a caramel roll.

The elevator opened and Ziva came in. She didn't seem surprised to see the admiral. "Callout. I heard from Gibbs a few minutes ago. Another Marine body at Prescott Park. I just need to grab my kit and we're off. Gibbs and McGee are going to meet us there."

"Sounds like a game changer." Tony grabbed his backpack. "Okay, Admiral, we're up."

…..

This one was a private named Jessica Hoff. She lay sprawled in the fall leaves looking everything like a blonde teen-age girl staring up at the sky. McGee was on the scene taking pictures when Tony and Ziva arrived with their guest. Ducky was taking a liver temp. He looked up at Gibbs. "She was probably killed around midnight. Why would anyone be running at midnight?"

"The young are invincible. Haven't you heard?" Gibbs turned his attention to their visitor. "Jim, you can observe but you can't touch anything."

Tim's head popped up briefly at the mention of his father's name. He looked at the admiral, nodded, and then returned to circling the body slowly as he took pictures. The admiral stepped closer and crouched. "She was just a kid."

"She was a 20 year old private. She'd been in the service less than a year," Gibbs said consulting the tablet Tim handed him.

Jim McGee shook his head. "Her poor parents."

Everyone froze for a moment. Work at a crime scene didn't lend itself to the sentimental. It was a distraction that interfered with the process. Ducky stood up and approached him. "You are Admiral James McGee. Pleased to meet you. I'm the medical examiner, Dr. Donald Mallard, but you can call me Ducky."

McGee frowned. "My mother went to London with a Scotsman named Ducky a month ago."

"Yes, one and the same, but we'll talk about that later. Let's move off to the side while the team collects evidence." Ducky gently led McGee off to the truck.

Tony winced at Gibbs. "I'm not sure this was a good idea."

"Just keep your focus on the work, DiNozzo. Ziva, I need to know if this MO fits any other murders in the area. Call Fornell. Tony, we need to find out what she was doing running at midnight."

McGee knelt next to the body. "I was wondering the same thing, Boss. Her clothes are all wrong."

Gibbs and Tony trotted over. "What do you mean?"

"Her clothes look too clean. There are no sweat stains anywhere. She would've already jogged six miles by this point. She would've been soaked in sweat even at midnight. Her clothes show no evidence of that."

"You think she was killed elsewhere."

Tony shook his head. "Evacuation of her bladder happened here. She died here, but she didn't run here."

"Someone brought her here and killed her. Our previous victim had definitely been jogging. Are we looking at two killers?"

Tony and Tim looked at the boss. Tim shook his head. "Two women strangled on consecutive nights in the same park- that would be a helluva' coincidence, and you know how we feel about coincidences, Boss."

Gibbs nodded. "We don't believe in 'em do we, boys?"

"Do we think it's Miller?"

Gibbs let out a deep breath. "He'd have to be a raving sociopath to kill two women in two nights. He's nine years in. I hate to think the Marines wouldn't have spotted a monster in that amount of time."

Tony shrugged. "It's happened before, and it's a great way to get the attention away from a simple case of a guy killing his girlfriend."

Gibbs frowned. "I need that bastard in interrogation. McGee, I need to know everything there is to know about Miller. That's your job, and your dad's going to be your probie."

"Aw geez, Boss. What don't you just kill me now?"

Gibbs slapped him on the shoulder. "This is your chance to show your dad what you can do. Take it! Show him who you are, Tim."

…..

Outside of a few pleasantries they were silent during the ride back to NCIS. It wasn't until they got in the elevator to take evidence down to Abby that McGee made his move. He hit the stop button on the elevator and turned to look at this dad. "It means a lot to me that you want to see what I do. I appreciate it, but we need some ground rules here."

James McGee arched a brow. "Okay?"

"You're not the admiral for the next two days. We're going to be interviewing suspects and gathering information. If anyone on base realizes who you are, they are going to shut down. They will stop short of sharing anything that could make the Corps or them look bad. You are the ultimate killjoy, Dad. Do you understand?"

"I do. Anything else?"

"We're going to Abby Scuito's lab now. You've heard me talk about her. She's very special to me. If you are insensitive to her in any way, you and I are going to have a problem."

"Good to know."

"She's a little peeved at me right now because I didn't introduce her to you yesterday, but I know how to handle her."

Tim hit the release and the elevator continued its journey. At the door to the lab, he hesitated and peered inside. Then he lifted one foot gingerly inside and then pulled it out.

Admiral McGee scowled. "What are you doing?"

"Checking for super glue," Tim said as he waved a hand inside the room and then quickly withdrew it. His father gave him an odd look.

Tim shrugged. "Trip wires for possible booby traps."

Feeling somewhat secure, he ventured in. "Abs, it's McGee. Coming in now. I got a surprise for you."

"I don't want any more stupid flowers," came the reply. As they stepped in the room, there was a sign on the wall saying, "Beware!" spelled out in purple rose petals.

Abby was in full riot gear with her spiked collar, death metal t-shirt, and steel-toed goth boots. She swung her ponytails in his direction and glared. "Can't take a hint, I see."

"Well, we're on a case, Abs. Under the circumstances, I had to throw caution to the wind."

She appraised his companion for a moment. "And who is this?"

"Well, that's the surprise-"

"Never mind! It doesn't matter. Clearly, I wasn't important enough to bring your father down for five minutes yesterday. That's all I asked. I was dressed in my best silk blouse. Granted, it had skulls on it, but they were tastefully done."

He nodded. "Ah…I love that blouse."

"I don't want your empty compliments. Actions speak louder than words. You really screwed up this time, Timmy. I know he surprised you yesterday, but you could've found five minutes. Just give me the damn evidence and leave me in peace."

"Abby, if you'd just let me explain."

She snatched the evidence from him, tears in her eyes. "I don't know why this is so important to me but it was."

"Abby, you gotta' listen to me-"

The admiral brushed past him. "Abby, I've been waiting for years to meet you. I'm James McGee."

She stood, mouth open, as he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Timothy has told me that you were beautiful, but clearly his words were inadequate to the reality."

She blinked. "Admiral McGee?"

He smiled warmly at her. "I'm sort of undercover for the next couple of days. I hope you can forgive my son. He really had no control over my schedule. I came in like a tornado yesterday and I left a bit of devastation in my wake. Not his fault, really."

"I wore all the wrong stuff. This is my 'kicking ass and taking names' outfit not my 'meet the admiral' outfit."

"Have you ever met my mother? She was the Abby Scuito of her day. She wore daisies in her hair and a 'Love not War' t-shirt to my father's swearing in ceremony as an admiral. The McGee men have an appreciation for strong, unique women."

"Really?"

"And brilliant women. Tim informs me that you can think circles around him."

"Are you kidding? Timmy- I mean, Timothy is one of the most brilliant minds I've ever known. You should see it when we work together. We're a dynamic duo- we're like cyber superheroes."

He smiled at her. "I can see why Tim talks about you as much as he does. You're very special. We'll be working late tonight, but tomorrow night, I would like to know if you could join us for dinner."

She blushed. "Seriously?"

"You could maybe wear the 'Meet the Admiral' outfit for me."

Smiling broadly, she hugged him tightly. "I can't wait."

…

Minutes later in the elevator, Tim looked over at his father. "How have I never noticed what a smooth operator you are? You make DiNozzo look like a stuttering teen-ager."

James McGee sighed. "I don't know. Somewhere along the way, my charm stopped working on you."

"Yeah, maybe because you started to confuse charming me with controlling me. Food for thought, Dad."

"Oh, and by the way, your handling of her was masterful. She would've eaten you like a little chicken Mcnugget if I hadn't stepped in."

Tim looked at the ceiling of the elevator. "This is going to be the longest day of my life."

….

They looked at him from behind the glass. Master Sergeant Miller was a big man, but it was all muscle. He had a chiseled face much like Gibbs except where Gibbs was handsome, Miller's looks were almost predatory. His eyes were ice blue contrasted with wavy, black hair and a 5 o'clock shadow resting on a square jaw. It was the kind of handsome that stopped women in their tracks and left them a little breathless.

"I don't like him," Tony concluded.

"He's all animal," said Ziva under her breath.

DiNozzo scowled. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know. He's macho squared. Sort of a testosterone supernova. He's very…something."

Tony stared at her, blinking. Then he turned to Gibbs. "Boss, I think our Israelis is getting a little hot under the collar."

"Knock it off, both of you. Is he a killer? That's all I want to know. Where was he last night?"

"According to Miller, he was distraught about his girlfriend's death and got into a heated argument with his CO, Captain Blake. Blake ordered him to pull a double. He says the Captain wanted to keep him out of trouble. He was on shift last night until well after midnight. He says there are at least 15 witnesses to his whereabouts."

"Ziva, what does Fornell say about the MO?"

"A killer in the sort of frenzy to murder twice in consecutive nights is going to be more brutal. Fornell says there is almost always some element of sexual assault. They're checking their databases for a similar MO, but he thinks we should keep working the sergeant here. Says you should trust your instincts."

Gibbs snorted. "I should trust my instincts, huh. I'll have to tell him how incredibly helpful that advice was the next time I see him."

"You going in, Boss?"

"Not yet. I need McGee to get me some answers first. Why don't you go in, DiNozzo, and toy with him a bit? Have some fun."

Tony smiled. "You just made my day, Boss."

….

'He's been an exemplary Marine for me. I have no complaints."

Tim could sense his father's impatience beside him, but he ignored him and leaned forward. "Captain Blake, you may be happy with him, but several of your female Marines are not."

"Not one of those complaints has been proven."

"Four complaints, Captain. Four complaints in his jacket! This does not concern you."

"As I said, none of them were proven."

"The only thing that is proven is that it sucks to be a female under your command. Any soldier with 2 or more complaints in their file is supposed to be flagged for internal investigation. This Marine has four complaints, and this has not been sent over for investigation."

Captain Blake waved a finger at him. "I will not be scolded by a Navy cop."

"If I might interject-" began James McGee.

"You may not!" Tim said looking at him sharply. "Captain, you have lost two Marines in the last 48 hours, and your only concern is in protecting Sergeant Miller. You will be very surprised to see how far up the command structure your lack of cooperation is going to go."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise, Captain. It's a promise."

There was something about the conviction in McGee's voice that gave Blake pause. "What do you want?"

"Talking to you has been a bust, but luckily, I did my homework. There is one sergeant in this company who didn't write a letter for Miller's last commendation. That is Sergeant Lois Miles. I would like to speak with her."

"She is out in the field."

"Bring her in."

"I can have one of my people take you out there."

"I think we would prefer to sit with you and wait until she is brought in. Gives you less opportunity to make calls and put some spin on this."

Captain Blake turned his attention to the admiral and scowled. "Who the hell are you anyway? You look familiar."

James McGee looked at him, a smile playing on his lips. "I'm military."

"Marine?"

"Tried to get in, but you guys don't take anyone with an IQ north of 100. Had to settle for the Navy instead. Unlike you, I've had to spend my military career using my brain."

"Asshole."

James McGee smiled warmly. "Blake, you are absolutely delightful. I can not wait until the two of us meet again."

Tim had to suppress a smirk. His father was incapable of letting incompetence go unchecked even when it didn't happen on his watch. Tim knew that the admiral would be making phone calls just as soon as he could. Blake wasn't going to know his ass from a hole in the ground by the time Admiral James McGee was done with him.

….

Sergeant Lois Miles was a stocky, blonde woman in her mid thirties. She sat across from them with hands folded in front of her, a look of stoicism on her face.

"Sergeant, we were hoping you could give us some insight into Sergeant Miller's life."

"I don't think I can help you, Sir. We work in the same company, but our jobs are quite different. Our paths don't really cross."

"Sergeant, did you know Corporal Bennett?"

Her mouth twitched. "Not well, Sir."

"And Private Hoff?"

Sergeant Miles leaned forward. "What about Private Hoff?"

"She was murdered last night."

"Jessica?!"

"Yes."

Miles stood and leaned over the table, breathing hard. "Oh no! God, she was just a kid. She was in my unit, Sir."

McGee watched her as she struggled to regain her composure. He traded looks with his father. "Sergeant, we believe that she was murdered by the same person who killed Corporal Bennett."

Miles frowned. "Why?! Hoff had nothing to do with Miller. She was just a puppy. I watched over her carefully. Didn't let her get involved with those guys."

"Who are those guys?"

She screwed up her face as she sat down. "Miller and his goons. They're animals. They run this company like a fraternity. The females are under constant threat of harassment."

James McGee narrowed his eyes. "As one of the top ranked females in this company, it's your job to step up and take a stand."

She slammed the table with her palm. "Really?! Are you serious!? It's everyone's job to take a stand against harassment, and for your information, I have filed two complaints over the last five years, one of them directly implicating Miller for his abuse of women. There was no investigation, and last year, my name was withdrawn from consideration for officer candidate school. I was told that I was not a team player. Don't lecture me on what I was supposed to do about the problems in this company!"

Tim put a restraining hand on his father. "Sergeant, you can help us bring her killer to justice."

She looked down at the table. "When was Hoff murdered? Miller was on duty last night. I know for sure he was there until midnight at least. He was a bear about it. I had people from my unit complaining to me all night about him."

"She was murdered at about midnight."

She shook her head. "Then it's not him."

McGee took a breath. "How loyal are Miller's friends?"

"What do you mean?"

"If Miller felt that he was close to being arrested for Bennett's murder, would there be someone he could turn to; someone who would murder Hoff in an effort to distract investigators?"

"Oh my God," she muttered as she considered the idea. "He served in Afghanistan with two guys, Sergeants Mike Stewart and Tom Sorenson. Together, they act like a bunch of adolescent boys. It ruined Sorenson's marriage. Most nights, they're at a dive bar called Cubby's destroying what's left of their livers."

"Sergeant Miles, can you find out where these men are now without going through Captain Blake?"

She sighed. "That will be a career-ender for me."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Sergeant," James McGee said. "You help us, and you'll be surprised the opportunities that come your way."

She gave him a hard look before shaking her head. "Nobody around here is going to do me any favors, but it doesn't matter. I was responsible for Jessica. Let me make some phone calls."

…..

Ziva climbed out of the back of the sedan after Tony and Gibbs. While they walked around to the front of a bar called Cubby's, she set up near the rear entrance. Tim turned to his father beside him. "You stay here. You're not armed, and Gibbs won't stand for any freelancing."

Without waiting for a response, he slid out and joined Ziva at the rear door to the old bar. He was pulling his Sig out and positioning himself opposite Ziva when the door flew open suddenly, catching Ziva and slamming her against the brick face of the building. Two large Marines barreled through running hard. Startled, McGee couldn't get a bead on them with his weapon until they turned the corner onto the street.

He heard yelling from inside bar and sounds of pushing and chairs being thrown, but his eyes were on Ziva sliding to the ground. "Ziva! You okay?"

Ziva looked up at him, blinking hard. "Wind knocked out…of me."

He leaned over her for a moment but felt a presence behind him. He whirled around and saw his father. He grabbed his arm. "You stay with her!"

Then he was off running as fast as he could around the corner and across the street to the city park where they were headed.

James McGee kneeled next to Ziva. "How bad?"

She grunted. "Help me up."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her upright, but she was still leaning against the wall in support. "Give me your weapon, Ziva. He needs backup."

She shook her head furiously and lurched forward. He caught her as she stumbled toward the corner. She looked at him fiercely. "Help me run!"

Without a word, he slung her arm around his shoulder, settled his hand around her waist, and the two of them staggered across the street. In the distance, they could see one of the men run out into an open area with Tim close on his heels. McGee lunged and caught the larger man at his knees, the two of them tumbling onto the ground. The Marine rose up and grabbed McGee and rolled over on top of him. Then he hauled back and punched him hard in the face.

James McGee pulled away from Ziva. "Give me your damn gun, Agent!"

She handed him her Sig, and he took off, running as fast as he could with his bad leg. At that moment, the other Marine ran into the clearing, grabbed the weapon that Tim had dropped, and pointed at him as the first Marine punched him again.

The Marines were screaming at one another about shooting McGee. The first one climbed off him and kicked him hard in the ribs. The second one pointed the gun at Tim's head.

"No!" James McGee screamed as he ran toward them. Then a shot rang out, and the admiral tripped on the edge of a sidewalk, sprawling face first in the dirt. He scrambled to his knees again, the gun still in his hand when he saw his son miraculously sit up. The Marine with the gun was on the ground now, and Gibbs was standing over him while DiNozzo was handcuffing the other one.

On his knees, James McGee tried to catch his breath, but it was broken by a sob emitting from deep in his throat. Struggling for control, he choked the sobs into throaty grunts and slowly steadied his breathing.

Then Ziva David was there, hooking her arms under his shoulders and pulling him to his feet.

…..

Tim McGee's cubicle in the emergency room was overcrowded. Twice a nurse pointedly made that observation, and twice, she was ignored. He had a headache that was growing at the same pace as the swelling around his right eye. His jaw had become thick and stiff, and his words had no shape when he talked. Still he was sitting up, despite a cracked rib, because lying down would indicate that he was a patient, and he had no intention of being a patient.

Ziva sat in a chair next to his bed quietly. She had two bruised ribs, and she was also pantomiming good health. Tony leaned against the counter and watched Admiral McGee pace the very small space. The admiral would glare at his son from time to time, but asked him nothing because he talked like he was storing a bag of marbles in his mouth. So he turned his angst on Tony. "This sort of thing happen often?"

Tony was in no mood for the admiral's energy. "Yeah, this was pretty much a typical day."

Tim rolled his eyes and groaned.

"You think this is funny, DiNozzo?!"

Tony took a deep breath. "In the time I've known your son, he has survived an assassination attempt, being held hostage in a women's prison, a guy who tried to remove his head with a band saw, a Marine who dislocated his shoulder, a German Shepherd who attacked him, an explosion, a drug lord who threatened to kill him in Mexico,-"

"Enoub!" Tim mumbled. The two men ignored him.

"So you're telling me he was following protocol."

"He's got a dangerous job, Admiral."

The curtain was pulled back and Gibbs walked in. "Answer him. Was McGee following protocol?"

Tony looked down. "I don't know. If he figured you and I would go out the front of the bar and head them off, then he was indeed following protocol."

Gibbs looked at Tim. "You knew their friends were holding us up in the bar, and you took off on your own."

"Yoo woo'wuv." McGee retorted.

"Yeah, we all would've in the same circumstances. Still, you should've been in communication with us before you followed them into a wooded area. You lost track of their movements and were ambushed. Between them, they've five tours of Afghanistan and Iraq under their belts. Taking on both of them was not going to end well. I know you don't want to hear this, but part of you was grandstanding for your father. Believe me when I say that the four of us will be spending some quality time debriefing on this little adventure before we take on another case in the field."

The admiral ran fingers through his thinning hair. "God knows I have enough to worry about right now without having to picture you getting killed in the field."

Tim stared at him. "Woo-weed? Wha are yoo woo-weed abou?"

The admiral froze. Then the curtain flew open on a flushed Abby as she cried, "Timmy!" and pushed past Gibbs to the bed. "They said you were brought here in an ambulance!"

McGee's answer was completely unintelligible, but she paid no attention as she wrapped her arms around him gently. "I talked to your doctor and she said that I could take you home with me and be your nurse."

Tony grinned. "You lucky bastard."

McGee's eyebrows arched in surprise, but he didn't protest when she insisted on clearing the room so she could help him dress.

…

Admiral McGee nodded as Gibbs slid onto the barstool next to him. He gestured at the bartender. "Your best bourbon, please. Make it a double for the gunny here."

"I don't know if I can handle bourbon this smooth," Gibbs said as he accepted the highball glass. Every surface of the hotel barroom shined like newly polished brass.

"Thanks for stopping by."

"You had quite a day."

James McGee swallowed hard. "Tell me he's not that careless when I'm not around."

"Yeah, but he's brave. Really brave. He never backs down. It doesn't matter what he's facing. He's a real soldier, Jim."

"He handled Captain Blake really well today. He had a real sense of authority. I could imagine him commanding men on a ship."

Gibbs shook his head. "You need to stop doing that. What you imagine is not who he is or what he wants. Your son could be a lot of things, but he chooses this. He wants to stop bad guys. It's a very honorable thing to do."

"It is." He signaled for another bourbon.

"Don't get too juiced. I expect you back in the bullpen tomorrow."

"He won't be there."

Gibbs snorted. "Oh yes he will. Sick time doesn't sit well with him. He'll come in and I'll keep him on desk duty, and the team will watch over him. Abby will check on him every hour. In some ways, it's better than him sitting at home alone. Besides, we don't have confessions yet, and I thought maybe you could help us with that."

"Okay, I will. Do those two kids even realize they're in love with each other?"

Gibbs chuckled. "Yes and no. They dance around it like a couple of teen-agers."

"I get the results tomorrow."

Gibbs closed his eyes.

"He'll never know."

"You love him deeply, Jim. If he has the bad gene, you'll never be able to rest."

"I still want to protect him. What if the two of them stop dancing at some point and want to have kids?"

Gibbs stared at him for a long moment before downing the rest of his bourbon. "I can't talk about this with you. I'll see you in the morning."

….

She sat on his bed watching him hold a bag of ice to his face. He pulled the bag away. "Go hobe, Abs."

She shook her head. "Packed a bag. I'm staying. I know you're showing up for work tomorrow so I'm going to do the driving."

"Tha-ks."

She took the bag of ice from him. "Your arm's getting tired. Let me."

She curled up on the bed, her face next to his and rested the bag on his face. He put his hand around her waist and stroked her back. "Yoo are bery specio to me."

She smiled. "You're very special to me too, Timmy."

…

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This story is complicated, but I hope it's not scaring you away. Sometimes, life is bittersweet. Please let me know what you think. Sheila

Legacy of the Royals

Chapter 3

Tim stared at the computer screen willing the ibuprofen in his system to kick in and shut down his headache. He was in early because the sore rib made it hard to sleep and because Abby was an early riser. She was already bouncing around his apartment at 5 a.m. looking for the ingredients to make pancakes. He avoided his reflection on the computer screen as he knew he looked like the loser of a heavyweight bout, but at least the swelling was down enough for him to enunciate words.

"Wished you would've stayed in bed," Ziva said as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. He gave her a stiff smile.

"Where's your dad?" Tony asked as he draped his coat over his chair.

"Said he was going to be late."

"Dang!" Tony grinned. "I was hoping you were still talking like Elmer Fudd."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Naw, that's okay. You'll get beat up other times," Tony said with a gleam in his eye.

"Tony!"

He ducked when she threw up a stapler at his head.

"You all done with the horseplay!?" Gibbs barked as he came into the bullpen.

"Hey Boss. How's Miller?"

"He spent the night in lockup. The MPs are bringing him now. They're also bringing in Stewart. Sorenson is still at the hospital with the hole I put in his shoulder."

"What's our game plan?"

"Tony has Sorenson and I take Miller. We don't have a lot of evidence so we gotta' get these goons to crack."

Tim stood as the elevator open. "Boss, I think we may have more than you think."

Sergeant Lois Miles strode toward them in her dress uniform followed by four female Marines and one male. Tim came up to meet her. "What can we do for you, Sergeant?"

She looked at his face and winced. "Sorenson and Stewart did this to you?"

He nodded and then turned to Gibbs. "Boss, Sergeant Miles is the one who tipped us off to where Sorenson and Stewart were hanging out."

Gibbs looked at the Marines with her. "What do you have here?"

"I spent all night questioning Marines about what they might know about Miller and our murdered Marines."

Gibbs cocked his head. "No one asked you to do that."

"Look Gibbs, you were a gunny, weren't you? You know the price of speaking out of line. My people know how it works in Blake's company. You don't toe the party line and you're out. They're not going to talk to you because they are afraid of the consequences, but they will talk to me because they know I can carry the heat for them. I've accepted that Blake will ruin me over this."

"What do these Marines know?"

"They are all ready to go on the record. One of them overheard Sorenson discussing a midnight run with Hoff. Another one can testify that Bennett was beaten by Miller on two occasions. She has photos of the bruises. Two of these Marines can report sexual assaults: one against Miller and one against Stewart. And finally, one of these Marines will testify that she was gang raped by all three of our suspects just two months ago."

Gibbs rubbed his mouth as he contemplated the enormity of it all. Then he turned to his team. "New plan. Stewart and Miller can cool their heels in interrogation while we take statements. Ziva, call JAG. Get someone down here so we can make sure all of these Marines have legal representation. Tony, escort these soldiers to interview rooms."

Then he pointed a finger at Miles. "Your career is not over for this. Not unless you want it to be. I can guarantee you that."

At that moment, the elevator opened again, and Admiral McGee emerged in dress whites followed by a female Marine Lieutenant Colonel. Sergeant Miles gasped when she saw him. "I had no idea."

He nodded at the sergeant. "Thanks for your help yesterday."

She blinked, unable to form words.

"Dad, she just brought in five Marines, some of whom have evidence implicating Miller and his crew. Three of the Marines want to report sexual assaults and a gang rape by these animals. She risked a lot to do that, and she needs to know that her people are going to be okay."

Admiral McGee turned to his guest. "This is Lieutenant Colonel Tufte. She's attached to General Morrison's staff. Blake's company is under his command. She's here to make sure these Marines are protected."

Tufte stepped up to Miles. "Where are these Marines? I want hear all of their stories."

Miles brought a shaky hand up to her mouth, unable to respond.

"I have your file here," Tufte continued. "I know you tried to send information up the chain of command, and I know it was suppressed. The General is committed to finding the truth here. Marines like Miller reflect badly on all of us."

Miles cleared her throat. "Thank you, Ma'am."

Tufte patted her gently on the shoulder. "Let's go talk to your people, soldier."

Ziva led the two women down the hall.

Gibbs turned to the admiral. "You were busy, I see."

"Probably should've talked to you first. Had breakfast with General Morrison at 0600 this morning. I let him take me to the woodshed over showing up on his base unannounced and undercover, but once he heard about all the shenanigans going on under his command, his better judgment won out. Tufte was at Blake's office by 0730 grabbing personnel files and other records. In my mind, Blake is as bad as Miller because he allowed an atmosphere like that to exist."

"I don't have a problem with this. Glad for your help." Gibbs nodded before heading off to the interview rooms.

Admiral McGee turned to his son. "You look like a piece of bad fruit, son."

Tim grinned and winced simultaneously. "Thanks, I think."

He smiled at Tim. "I thought about you all last night. You gave me quite a scare. I hope you'll use better judgment next time. I also realized that I've never been prouder of you, and it pains me that it took so long for me to wake up to what an amazing man you've become."

Tim looked at him. "You sure you're alright, Dad?"

The admiral looked away. "It's wrong for a father to admit his mistakes?"

"Not at all. You just seem off."

He reached over and patted the cheek that wasn't bruised. "Let's just learn from this, Tim. We've both been stubborn for too long, and we've missed valuable time. Let's not let that happen again."

"Okay, Dad."

…..

It wasn't easy to concentrate on his work with his dad in the bullpen, but the admiral was good at keeping himself occupied. He seemed able to stay on top of the interviews going on with Miles and her Marines, Commander Wilson bringing him different issues, and the case details all at the same time. In fact, he seemed to revel in the chaos. It reminded Tim of what an extraordinary intellect his father had.

Tony and Gibbs were back in the bullpen after a couple of unsatisfying sessions with Miller and Stewart. The two Marines were deeply entrenched in a code of silence. Even Gibbs couldn't break the intractable Miller.

"I think we're going to have to get these guys on the evidence alone," Tony said.

Gibbs winced. "I'd hate to see all those Marines have to testify in court against Miller and his thugs. They've already been through enough."

McGee held up a picture of a 10 year-old boy. "I think I have an idea with Stewart."

Okay, you run with it, Tim."

Admiral McGee nodded. "Been looking forward to seeing you in interrogation."

Tim let out a deep breath. "All right, let's do it."

Commander Wilson appeared. "Admiral, you have a phone call."

The admiral frowned. "Can it wait?"

"You've been waiting on this call, Sir."

Gibbs tensed and the admiral skipped a beat. "Okay. I'll…meet you down there in a few minutes.

….

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the observation room. Tony let the admiral in. Gibbs looked at him, but the admiral's face was like granite. He looked at Tony. "What's happening?"

Tony gestured at the window. "Your son is pulling a Gibbs. He's been in there for the last few minutes just staring at Stewart. He wants Stewart to get a good look at what he did to his face."

"Shhh!" Gibbs said sharply. "Stewart is getting ready to talk."

The Marine leaned across the table to McGee. "We didn't know who you were. It could've been anyone chasing us with a gun."

"That's not true. You knew you were being chased by NCIS. My boss identified himself in the bar, and I screamed it at you several times."

"I got PTSD, man. You chase me with a gun, and I don't know what's going to happen."

"Good to know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. I should thank you. I mean, you hit and kicked me really hard, but when your partner pointed a gun at my head, you told him to stop. I'd prefer a beating to lying on a slab in the morgue any day."

"What do you want from me?"

McGee shrugged. "I get the feeling that you are a little different than they are."

"You don't know me. My friends and I are like brothers."

"Yeah, I got a friend who always says, 'bros before hos'."

"I doubt your friend knows anything about combat."

McGee chuckled. "Trying working Baltimore homicide, Stewart. He may know more than you think."

Behind the glass, DiNozzo straightened his jacket. "I…uh, don't really say the 'bros before hos' thing…very often."

"Stay focused, Tony. Tim is getting ready to bring it all home," Gibbs said softly.

Tim held up the picture of the ten year-old boy. "This is your son."

Stewart reddened. "Keep him out of it!"

"I've done some research. You may be a miserable human being when it comes to women, but you care about your son. You make every effort to see him. You talk to him on the phone almost every night. You realize that you're going to lose all of that when you go to prison. And trust me when I say that you're going to prison."

"You don't know anything!"

"I know that the only thing you can control right now is how long you are absent from his life. You say Miller and Sorenson are your brothers, but does that mean that brothers are more important than sons. Do you really believe that they need your protection more than he does?"

"I'm not talking."

"He's going to grow up without you because you care more about these men than your own son."

"Not true!"

Behind the glass, Admiral McGee let out a whimper. He covered his mouth quickly.

"There is something special that happens between a father and his son. He needs you to teach him how to be a man. He needs you to save him from making the same mistakes you've made. He needs you."

The admiral choked into his hand. Tony looked at him in alarm. "You okay?"

He looked up, his eyes wet with tears, and Gibbs took over. He steered him toward the door, out into the hallway, and all the way down to the morgue. He pushed the admiral inside and gave Palmer a look. "We need the room."

Palmer scattered and Ducky came out of his office. "What's happening?"

"Sit down, Jim. Ducky can help us think this through. I'm assuming that you got the test results back. Tim has the mutated gene, doesn't he?"

The man nodded. "I was a fool. I thought the truth would help somehow."

Ducky put a hand to his mouth. "My God! You did the testing. Penelope told me about this. She was afraid you would do something like this. Please tell me that Timothy doesn't know."

"He doesn't." Gibbs' mouth felt dry. "What can you tell us, Duck? What percentage of people with this bad gene will get the disease?"

Ducky rubbed his forehead. "Penelope and I looked into it. There are no studies that have clarified probability."

"Okay, well there must be some preventative things to do."

"There are not. The medical community still doesn't know enough about the disease."

McGee shook his head. "What have I done?"

"You've opened Pandora's box, Admiral."

"Dr. Mallard, you cannot tell my mother the truth about this. It's bad enough that I know."

Ducky looked him in the eye. "Rest assured that I would never burden her with this knowledge."

Gibbs shook his head angrily. "What are we going to do with this?! How do I get this out of my head?"

"I'm sorry, Gibbs. I thought I could handle myself better. Who was I fooling? He's my boy."

"Gentlemen, what's done is done. Let's look at this rationally. We all live with risk. I could be hit by a car tomorrow or I could live until I'm 99 years old. Gibbs, think of the risks you take out in the field. In some ways, it's a miracle you've lived this long. We cannot start each day by evaluating the unknowable. It's no way to live."

James McGee nodded. "That's true. I've lived all these years with this bad gene, and I haven't gotten sick."

"Exactly, Admiral. Imagine that you knew about this all those years ago. Maybe you wouldn't have married, and if you did marry, maybe you would have chosen not to have children. There would've been no Sarah and no Timothy. Think of all you would've missed out on in this life without your dear children. Your son will be tremendous father. I can feel it in my bones. It would be a tragedy if we never see him in that role."

"Dr. Mallard-"

"Call me, Ducky."

McGee muttered. "My mother has a boyfriend called Ducky."

"Get over it, Admiral."

"Okay Ducky, call me Jim. Do you think there will be a cure for ALS?"

"It's a complex illness. Even now, the diagnosis is one of elimination, meaning that there is no test to confirm the illness. Rather, it is confirmed by ruling out everything else. Having said that, HIV went from being a terminal disease for many people to a chronic one in the short space of 30 years. If Timothy had children, and if they had the gene, it would still be probably 40 years before the onset of illness. In other words, the future for people with this disease 40 years from now could be very different than it is today."

The door to the lab opened and Tim rushed in. "Dad! Tony said you got sick. Are you okay?"

The admiral stiffened. "I'm fine, son. I, uh…had a bit of stomach upset. I've been feeling flu-ish the last couple of days."

Tim studied him for a long moment. "I don't believe you. Something is wrong. It's been like that all week. I hate the lying, Dad. You have ALS, don't you? Tell me the truth."

The whole room was silent, and then James McGee stood. "I'm fine. I don't have the disease. I will arrange for you to speak to my doctor. I have no problem with that."

Tim's shoulders relaxed. "You sure you're alright?"

"Tim, you and I have missed out on a lot, and I've had time to reflect on that. I think you're mistaking that for some sort of melancholy. Uh, how did the interrogation go?"

Tim looked at Gibbs and Ducky, but couldn't read the mood on anyone's face. "He's going to take a deal. He'll cop to the sexual assaults and to helping Sorenson lure Hoff out to the park. In exchange, he'll give us Miller and Sorenson. JAG is writing up the deal as we speak."

Gibbs swallowed. "Good work, Tim. No one else could've worked it quite like you did."

"Thanks Boss." Tim could feel the energy in the room. "You okay, Ducky?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Timothy."

He scanned their faces. "There's nothing I need to know?"

"Absolutely not," Gibbs said firmly.

"Okay, I should probably go help JAG with Stewart. Dad, are we still on for dinner?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Tim."

"I'll tell Abby." He hesitated for a moment, and then slowly walked out of autopsy.

James McGee turned to Gibbs and Ducky. "I promised Tim and Abby we'd go out to dinner before I left. She has a special outfit and everything. She's very sweet, and I would like to know her better. I have a midnight transport back to Alameda, and then back to back meetings in California starting at noon tomorrow."

Ducky shook his head. "You have to take better care of yourself, Jim. ALS may not be the only disease you are at risk for."

"Now you sound like my wife," he said. "I, uh, realize now that my son is not just an employee to the two of you. I should've considered that before dragging you into this drama. You've been forced to share this terrible secret with me."

Ducky sighed. "Someone has to help you see this reasonably. It might as well be us."

"So Ducky, are you going to marry my mother?"

Ducky laughed. "I don't think I could keep her in one place long enough to even contemplate it. We're just a couple of old adventurers enjoying each other's time. I have both tremendous affection and respect for her."

James shook his hand. "You're perfect for her. Please try to keep her from overthrowing the government, will you?"

"I'll do my best."

He turned to Gibbs. "You've put up with me for three days. I've been arrogant, pompous, and, at times, rude. I predicted we'd end this venture as either friends or street fighting in some back alley. I'd like to think that you're a friend."

"I'm glad for that."

"I know he's your kid too, and it doesn't bother me. I feel like he needs both of us. If I call him too much, he'll be suspicious. Can I call you to check in on him?"

"You know my number."

He gripped Gibbs' hand with both of his. "Thanks for watching over him. He's very precious to me."

…

Abby was in the bullpen waiting for him when he got in the next morning. "Gibbs! Open your mail. I sent pictures."

"Of what?" He said as he sat.

"We had the best time last night. The ad- I mean, Jim took us to the best restaurant. You'd probably think it was all fancy and stuffy with linen tablecloths but no! He took us to this really great sushi place where it's like impossible to get a reservation. It was amazing!"

He still hadn't pulled up his email so she shoved him aside and typed in his password. He frowned at her. "How do you know my password?"

She shrugged. "Uh, I guessed, but it doesn't matter. Look!"

She pulled up a picture of the three of them at the restaurant. Both McGees were casual in jeans and button down shirts. They had arms around Abby's shoulders, and she was dressed in a beautiful black dress.

"There's more. See! Here's the dragon roll I ordered and this one was the monster roll for Jim. It had seaweed and octopus in it. Timmy wasn't very adventurous. He just wanted a California roll and some tempura. Here's a picture with the sushi chef. His name was Yoshi and we're totally friends now. He's coming over this weekend to teach Tim and I how to roll sushi. And here we are eating green tea ice cream and-"

"Abby!"

This snapped her out of it and she cocked her head at him.

"You know I have a lot of rules."

She nodded.

"You don't always have to follow the rules, Abs."

"The rules are important though. You've always said so."

"I know." He put his hand on her arm. "But sometimes love is more important than rules."

She straightened up. "I don't understand."

"Just think about it."

"You're being weird, Gibbs."

"Don't wait forever to follow your heart."

She stared at him for a moment. Then the elevator opened breaking her reverie, and Ziva stepped out. Abby smiled when she saw her. "Ziva! Ziva! Open your mail! I sent pictures!"

…..

Gibbs stood at his workbench working on the handles for Ziva's hope chest. He'd given up checking on the time. His commitment to get at least five hours of sleep per night had been abandoned in the week since he'd learned of McGee's genetic mutation. There were moments when he could convince himself that the world was full of risks and this was just one of them, and then there were moments when he was seized by a vision of McGee in a wheelchair, unable to lift his hands, struggling to even talk, and it felt like a knife in his gut. He knew that if it was bad for him, then James McGee must be really suffering. In the short time he'd known the man, he'd come to understand the deep love the man carried for his son.

Footsteps sounded and he was surprised when the object of his thoughts appeared in his basement. He glanced at his watch and frowned. "Tim, it's 2 a.m. on a Monday. The two of us have to be to work in a few hours."

"Sorry Boss. I had a feeling you'd be awake."

Gibbs studied him carefully. "What can I do for you?"

Tim looked down at the floor. "I had a strange conversation with Abby the other night. She thought that maybe the two of us should start a future together."

Gibbs nodded, saying nothing.

"I was a little surprised. She and I have avoided that conversation for years."

"The two of you deserve happiness."

McGee nodded. "She told me you said something like that to her."

Gibbs avoided eye contact. "Just don't let it distract from the work."

"You feel okay about this then?"

"You'll make her happy, and she'll do the same for you. What more could you ask?"

McGee stared at him for a long minute. "I'm glad you think I'm good for her. I know you see her as a daughter."

"Okay, well, both of us need a few hours of sleep. You're welcome to bunk in the spare bedroom if you want. It's a long drive back to Silver Springs."

He nodded. "Appreciate it, but I'm good. Good night, Boss."

He started back up the stairs and then stopped. He turned his head slowly to Gibbs. "You love her like a daughter. How could you do this to her?"

The anger in his voice startled Gibbs. "Tim?"

McGee came back down the stairs. "It would be like putting her in prison. What's wrong with you?"

"What are you talking about, McGee?"

"I know you know. I saw it when you and my father were with Ducky in autopsy. I didn't know what it was then. I thought my father was strange, but I convinced myself it was all because we hadn't seen each other in so long. But then Abby comes to me and tells me that you offered her unsolicited advice about us. You've never interfered like that before. Never."

Gibbs leaned against the workbench. "What did you do?"

"What I do best, Boss. I hacked into the ALS clinic, and I found out that my dad isn't sick, but I also found out that there was a file on me and, God help me, I read it."

"No! Damn it, McGee!"

"It seems I have a mutated gene, and I'll die like my grandfather."

"That is not certain!"

McGee leaned against the wall. "It changes everything. I wanted to marry, and yes, I wanted to have a future with Abby. I wanted to be a father. I never told you that, but I wanted it desperately. I wanted a son, and I wanted him to have a childhood where he was loved and accepted- never judged. I wanted you to be one of his grandfathers. You know what else? I wanted to be the director of the agency one day. I wanted you to see that and to be proud of me for it."

Gibbs approached. "Tim, listen to me."

McGee startled and was back on the stairs before Gibbs could touch him. "Don't tell me it's going to be okay! You haven't seen the disease. You don't know what it does to a person. Don't tell me that I can still have my dreams. I don't want to hear any more lies."

"We need to sit down and talk about this."

McGee shook his head. "There's nothing to say. I'm just hoping that I get killed in the line of duty before I ever show symptoms of this thing."

Something in Gibbs snapped. "Stop it! You start sounding suicidal, and I'll pull you out of the field so fast, you'll never know what hit you!"

McGee was startled by Gibbs' outburst.

Gibbs pointed a finger in his face. "You need perspective, McGee! You're only seeing one outcome and that's dangerous. You are not going to figure this out on your own. You need help. You hear!?"

"Don't call my dad," he said softly. "He shouldn't know what I did."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Navy royalty. You McGee's are a piece of work. He keeps things from you. You keep things from him, and it's all in the name of love. The two of you are driving me nuts."

"I'm going to go now, Boss."

"No, you're not! You're one of mine, Tim. You're family. Even your father acknowledged it. We're working through this together."

McGee rubbed his face with his hands. "There's nothing to work through. I have no choices here. It is what it is. I can't plan a future. I'm in limbo."

Gibbs strode forward and took him by the shoulders. "You gotta' trust me, Tim. We're going to figure this out."

McGee pushed him away gently and started up the stairs, shaking his head. "I don't see it. I can't see anything right now."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to drive. I just want to drive."

"Tim!"

"I need space, Boss." The door to the basement closed and Gibbs groaned. He wanted to chase him, order him to stay, but he knew he would be doing the same thing if he were in McGee's shoes.

…..


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I hope you like the choices I made here. It was a hard story to finish. The bitter is definitely punctuated by the sweet. I'm going to be away for a while. I have a SeSa to finish and real life responsibilities that keep on pulling at me. Hope to come around again soon. I would love to hear what you think about this last chapter. Sheila

Legacy of the Royals

Chapter 4

"Callout!"

The boss grabbed his coat, but the circumstances were serious enough for him to leave his coffee on his desk. Tony and Ziva grabbed backpacks, and headed toward the elevator.

McGee's backpack lay on the ground beside him, and he grunted as he struggled to reach for it, but his arms just sat in his lap, limp.

Gibbs turned and looked at him, eyes blazing. McGee decided to abandon the backpack, and just follow. He pushed at his feet, but there was no movement. He tried repeatedly to manipulate his legs, but it was as if they were divorced from his body. He looked up at Gibbs, and the man he admired more than anyone else, shook his head slowly, turned his back and headed into the elevator with the rest of his team.

McGee howled in protest, begging his team to wait, but words came out garbled and unintelligible. He couldn't shape words and tears sprang to his eyes.

"Timmy!"

He looked up and there was Abby standing over him, her eyes wet and shiny. "You would've been the best daddy."

"Ahh-eee!"

She touched his face. "I don't want to leave you, but I need to find someone who has a future."

His frantic grunts meant nothing to her, and she too walked away. Then he was alone in the bullpen at his desk. His computer was in front of him, his last bastion of sanity, and he tried to drag his hand to the mouse, but he could barely lift one finger.

The frustration welled up from deep in his gut, and tears, the only thing left that seemed to function on him, ran down his face.

He sat up, breathing hard, and looked at his alarm clock. It was only 3:30 a.m. Fear flooded his body and he knew that further sleep was impossible.

…..

"4:35 a.m."

He looked up in surprise. Ziva was standing in front of him, and he wasn't sure how she got there. "What?"

"You clocked in at the front desk at 4:35 a.m. this morning."

"I had a lot of work to do."

"You left after 9 p.m. last night. You've been in early 3 out of the last 5 days."

He narrowed his eyes. "Are you writing a book or something?"

She leaned over. "What's wrong with you? Don't say nothing because I know you."

He didn't answer.

She crouched in front of him. "Tell me. I would do anything for you. You have to know that, McGee."

He searched her face. "You really don't want to know this, Ziva. Trust me."

She reached over and gripped his hand tightly. "Not knowing is worse than any truth. You have to believe that."

He furrowed his brow as he considered this.

"4:35 a.m.!"

This startled both of them. DiNozzo slung his backpack onto his chair. "What the hell is with you, McGee? You're not sleeping and you look like crap."

McGee slammed his palm on the desk. "It's nobody's business what time I get into work!"

"We're worried about you, McGee."

"Plus, I don't need a sluggish partner covering my butt," Tony added.

Ziva glared at him. "We're not worried about that, Tony."

Tony walked over. "Something's wrong. We're a team, McGee. Spill."

McGee shook his head. "You guys have to give me some space. I need to work it through by myself."

"Work through what, Tim?"

"Please just leave me alone."

"Do you know where I was last night, McGee? Sitting with Abby while she drowned herself in mojitos. She thought that the two of you were getting close again, and then, all of a sudden, you've gone MIA. You avoid her; don't call her. What the hell!?"

McGee closed his eyes. "Please."

"Please what, Tim? You haven't given me one good reason not to push."

"I can."

They turned to see Gibbs and Ducky standing there in their coats. "How 'bout you don't push him 'cause I said so."

"Callout, Boss?" Tony went for his backpack.

Gibbs shook his head. "Cold cases. We're temporarily off the roster."

"Why is that, Gibbs?"

Tony gestured at McGee. "I'll bet you McMoody knows."

Gibbs turned his head sharply. "That's enough, Tony! Grab a stack of cold cases and get to work!"

McGee reached for some files at the end of his desk, but Gibbs shook his head. "You're coming with us, Tim."

McGee looked up. "I want to work."

"Work can't solve everything, Timothy," Ducky said softly.

"I'm not ready."

"For what!?" Tony exploded.

They ignored him. Gibbs gave McGee a steely-eyed glare. "It's time, Tim."

McGee looked down at his desk for a long moment, and everyone could feel the rebellion simmering inside. Finally, he gave a sharp nod, grabbed his bag, and followed Gibbs and Ducky out of the bullpen.

…

McGee sat in the doctor's office, Gibbs and Ducky on either side of him. The mood was somber, and none of them attempted small talk. It was several long minutes before Dr. Demoz came in the office, carefully studying test results. She sat down behind her desk, and took off her glasses. "Are you sure you don't want to speak with me alone?"

McGee swallowed. "They care about this too."

"Let's start with some good news then. You are in fairly good health. Your blood pressure is a little high and you could stand to gain ten pounds, but I suspect that has something to do with your current stress. I see no loss of motor function anywhere. There is nothing here to indicate that you have ALS."

Ducky reached over to pat McGee on the back. "Well, that's good news, Timothy."

McGee stiffened. "I realize I am not showing signs of disease now. I'm worried about five years from now, ten years. You can't tell me anything about that."

Dr. Demoz shook her head. "I can't guarantee anything about anyone's health over such a course of time."

"I could get sick at any time."

She leaned forward. "And you might not get sick at all. We rarely recommend that people get this sort of testing. It gives people a sense of dread. People get depressed; they stop striving. It changes your sense of the future. Most people end up seeing it as an inevitability rather than a risk."

"It's hard not to. How can I plan a future if I don't know if I have one?"

"Because you don't know. So many of us live with uncertainty, but you can't give in to that."

Tim took a breath. "I can't father children."

"It's a risk, but it's one many people choose. Most children are born are quite healthy."

Tim shook his head. "I would never want to risk passing on this horrible mutation."

"Mr. McGee, you can't cut yourself off from people. You need your friends and family."

"I can't tell them about this."

She gestured at Gibbs. "This man is your supervisor, and it's clear that he cares for you very much. What if he was terminally ill? Wouldn't you want to know? Wouldn't you want to support and help him?"

McGee looked at Gibbs. "Of course I would."

"What if he didn't want to tell you because he doesn't want to drag you into his pain?"

McGee frowned. "But we're a family. I know that's odd to say. He's not my father, but he's been…like a father when I've needed that. If something is hurting him, I would want to know about it."

"If he didn't tell you, you'd probably guess something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

He shook his head. "I keep thinking these parallels aren't comparable."

"How wouldn't they be?" Gibbs asked.

"It would bring pain into their lives."

"They're already afraid, McGee. You have to know that. You have them living with uncertainty by telling them nothing."

"It would make it worse if they knew."

"No! If you told them, they would know the fear that they were fighting. They deserve that."

McGee got up out of his chair and went over to the window. "I can't make sense of this. A week ago, you told me that this was something nobody should know. Now, you're telling me this is something everyone should know."

Gibbs stood. "You know now. That's the difference. Maybe you keep it from the people you don't see every day like your mother, but the team…they see you almost every day. We…depend on each other, Tim. We see what it's doing to you. And then there's Abby- she loves you and she wonders if you've stopped loving her."

McGee stayed focused on the street below them. "She'll want to stand by me. Do you really want that for her?"

Gibbs looked at Ducky for a moment before answering. "I do, Tim. I do want that for her. I want the two of you to fight this and win. No giving up. No giving in. That's what I want for both of you."

McGee turned to Dr. Demoz. "You've seen the disease; he hasn't. Tell him it would be unfair to her."

She sighed deeply. "I don't usually share this with my patients, but I think it might help here. Mr. McGee, I am a breast cancer survivor. I had a double mastectomy when I was 34 years old. My mother died of breast cancer, and another of my sisters is currently battling ovarian cancer. The chances that I will eventually die of cancer are actually quite high."

McGee looked at her in stunned silence.

"I got married two years ago, and I have a nine month old son. My husband and I have chosen to face an uncertain future together. I had my own crisis with letting him in, but I am so grateful to have him by my side."

He regarded her for a long moment. Then he turned to Gibbs and Ducky. "I need to think about this."

Ducky nodded. "Can we help?"

He shook his head. "You've done everything you can. I have to make some decisions now."

"What kinds of decisions?" Gibbs watched him warily.

"It's okay, Boss. Nothing crazy. I promise."

…..

McGee did what he often did when faced with questions. He packed up his car and Jethro, and headed for the mountains. He was as comfortable in the outdoors as he was in front of a computer. He bought a pass at a state park, and grabbed his backpack and his dog. Jethro was an old dog and his days of chasing squirrels were largely behind him, and so McGee didn't bother with a leash. He and his old friend took a trail that he knew very well. It winded lazily up an old mountain. There was no real challenge to this climb, but McGee liked that. It was a journey he took when he needed to do some thinking. The only real danger was snakes, and he carried a walking stick to check out piles of leaves and other places where they might hide.

He walked slow and stopped several times so Jethro could rest. Jethro's arthritis was becoming a bigger concern every year, and it pained Tim to see him struggle, but the old dog would've hated to be left behind. It took hours for them to get to the lookout he liked to visit. He sat down on a familiar boulder, and watched as Jethro eased his stiff body onto the ground beside him, close enough so that Tim's hand could settle on his head and massage his ears.

He had many memories on this mountain. He remembered the time he dragged Tony up the trail; his partner complaining every minute until he got to the lookout and saw the vast, beautiful valley below. DiNozzo had settled down then, and the two of them talked into the night about the difference between growing up with a father with no expectations as opposed to a father with too many expectations. That was a good night for both of them.

He and Ziva had hiked this trail several times. Sometimes at the lookout, she'd tell him about growing up in Israel. He'd treasured those moments when she trusted him with memories of her sister and mother. Abby had climbed this trail with him once. She'd delighted in nature all the way up the trail, and it had taken hours longer than he'd expected. Even when their relationship was only platonic, she was physically affectionate, and he remembered how she snuggled up against him and laid her head on his shoulder for hours as they looked out on the valley. On that trip, there had been few words. McGee had been content to just be close to her, wondering if she ever imagined the same possibilities that he did.

Today as he looked out on the valley, it's trees naked in late fall, he pondered on the appointment with Dr. Demoz. Intellectually, the answer seemed clear to him, but emotionally, it was still a struggle. There was an ache deep in his gut as he wondered whether there would come a time when he could no longer climb this trail and look out on the wonders around him.

The sun went down, but he and Jethro stayed. He pulled out a bedroll and curled up against his dog. It was primitive, and he couldn't get comfortable enough to sleep, but he wouldn't have welcomed sleep if he'd been in his own bed either. He was desperate for clarity as he stared up at the stars in the clear night sky.

….

Tony paced Gibbs' living room. "What are we doing here on a Sunday night? Something is really off."

"You need to sit down, Tony," Ziva said from the window. I see Abby coming up the walk. Your agitation is not going to help. "

Tony dropped into the old couch and pretended calm while Ziva answered the door and let Abby in. Her eyes were flashing as she looked around the room. "I'm only here because Gibbs told me to come."

"Have you talked to McGee?"

She shook her head. "He called at least ten times today, but I didn't pick up. There is no excuse for how he's treated me. No excuse at all."

Ziva took Abby's face in her hands. "Keep your mind open, my friend. There is much we don't know. Come sit down with me, okay?"

Without waiting for a response, she pulled Abby down onto the couch between her and Tony.

Ducky and Jimmy came in next. Ducky surveyed the room. "Where's Timothy?"

"He's in the backyard with Gibbs. We're not invited."

Ducky eased into a chair. "Relax, Anthony. They'll be in shortly."

Tony leaned forward. "You know what's going on, don't you? You know why McGee is so weird."

"I do."

"Then tell us!"

Ducky shook his head. "It is not my story to tell."

"Ducky!"

"Hey!"

Heads turned as Gibbs entered. "That's enough. I know you're all anxious. I get it. But you need to be patient with him. Please."

McGee came in behind him. "Thanks Boss. Uh…I'm sorry for the last week and a half. You were all right about something being on my mind. I got freaked out… about something and I haven't really been myself. I'm really sorry for worrying all of you."

Then he focused on Abby. "I wanted to talk to you first. You deserved that, but you wouldn't pick up the phone so I have to do it here. I know I deserved that so even I'm going to tell all of you, I'm going to keep my eyes on you, Abs. Hurting you is my worst crime."

He pulled a chair up in front of her, and took her hands in his. She bit her lip, looking at him with teary eyes.

"You remember when I was afraid that my dad was sick with ALS? You remember how worried I was because my grandpa died of it?"

She nodded.

"I didn't trust him when he told me he was fine. I didn't believe him so I hacked into his medical files."

"Is he sick?" She asked.

He shook his head. "He's not but I found out that he was tested for a mutated gene that predicts a higher incidence of ALS."

"So you're afraid he will get ALS. Don't worry, Timmy. It only means that there is a chance…you can't assume he'll get sick." She squeezed his hands tightly.

"Abs," he swallowed. "I'm like my dad in some ways. I'm not content until I know everything. My dad had me tested without knowledge. I found that file and I looked at it. I have the mutated gene too."

She frowned at him as she took it all in. Tony leaned forward. "Are you sick, McGee?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm not, but I could get sick some time in the next few years. It made me feel like I didn't have a future; it made me think that I couldn't get married or have kids or imagine any kind of a future. I got scared."

Ziva put a hand on his arm. "You can't predict the future, McGee."

He nodded. "I know. It's taken a bit of time to remember that."

Tony stood. "Ducky, is he going to get sick? I don't understand this."

"We don't know, Anthony. There is a greater chance than there would be if he didn't have this mutation, but that's all we know."

"There must be a specialist. There are specialists for everything. Can we get a hold of a specialist?"

Ducky shook his head. "It's in his genes. There isn't a cure for that."

"What about the disease? What if he gets sick? Are there treatments? If he gets sick, will he die?"

"Currently, there are no effective treatments."

"I need some air." Tony headed for the door. He slammed the door behind him. After a minute, Ziva got up and followed him.

"Abby, look at me."

She blinked at him through tears. "Why didn't you tell me? Did you think I would leave you? Do you really think I would be that person?"

"No, I knew you wouldn't leave me. That's what scared me. You deserve the best of futures, Abs, and I'm just not sure I can give that to you."

She shook her head. "What's wrong with you?!"

"I just wanted to protect you."

She pulled her hands away. "This is not the way, Tim. You don't protect people by pushing them away and making decisions about their lives."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't know what to do with this." He reached for her again, but she pushed him away. "I need to think."

He stood up and stepped back. "Of course, you need time, but you also need people. Don't be alone with this. The boss can help you with this. He always has your best interest at heart."

"Timothy, where are you going?" Ducky said as McGee went for his coat.

"Abby needs space, and Tony is going to have questions that he's going to be afraid to ask in front of me. They need you right now, not me. I'm just the guy who complicated their lives." He fumbled at his coat with shaky hands.

Gibbs shook his head. "You're not leaving by yourself."

Jimmy stood up. "I got this. I already know enough about the disease. Tim, let's you and I go somewhere and have a drink, play some pool or video games or something."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," he patted McGee on the shoulder. "We'll hang out."

Tim looked at Abby once more. Her head was in her hands, and she was sobbing softly. Then he looked at Gibbs. "Did I screw this up?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry, Tim. I got this."

"I love you, Abs," he whispered before following Jimmy out the door.

…..

It was November, and the wind whipped at his face, but he didn't feel the cold as he leaned over the railing on the Anacostia watching the boats go by. Being on the water made him powerfully sick at times, but standing there, watching its blue depth, was often how he best found solace.

He startled when DiNozzo appeared next to him, and he felt for his phone. "Did the boss call?"

"No," Tony said as he handed him a coffee. "I'm just taking a break like you are. You look cold."

McGee hid a grin. In the weeks since his confession about the mutated gene, DiNozzo had become something of a mother hen about his health. It would've been unsettling if he didn't know the depth of Tony's heart. "I'm fine, Tony."

"Did you see your dad last night?"

Tim sipped from the coffee. Tony had remembered cream and sugar. "I met him for a late dinner between flights before he had to leave for a conference in London."

Tony shook his head. "Your old man keeps a crazy schedule."

"I know."

"What happened?"

"Gibbs told me that I could never be as close as I wanted with my father if I let this secret stand between us so I told him what I did."

Tony sighed. "And?"

"For the first time in my life, I saw my dad cry."

"Sorry to hear it."

"No, it was okay actually. It was really okay. We talked in a way we never could have if I'd kept that last secret. I really felt his love. I'm grateful. I feel close to him again."

"What about your mom and Sarah and Penny?"

McGee shrugged. "They haven't been a part of this drama since the beginning. Let them have their peace. I sort of wish I'd been able to hold it together enough so that I hadn't had to tell you either."

Tony nudged him with his shoulder. "Forget that. You needed a support system, and we're with you every day. It was really the only thing you could do. I'm glad I know. I really am."

"Yeah well, I'm doing good now. I'm sleeping, not obsessing. It's going to be okay."

"Now, we have to do something about Abby."

McGee smiled sadly. "We're trying to be friends again. Every morning when I come in, there are vitamins and a protein shake on my desk. Ducky said that she's frantically consulting with healers."

"But?"

"We don't know how to talk to one another. Yesterday, I heard her talking to Ziva about a guy named Terrance. She's wondering about committing to him. I don't blame her. I understand why she needed to move on. I get it."

"Tim, would you let her in if that's what she wanted?"

McGee closed his eyes, the wind blowing at his hair. "Nobody understands me like she does. Nobody makes me feel like she does. I love every quirky, crazy thing about her. There's a weird logic to how she lives her life that I totally understand and accept, and she does the same for me."

McGee stopped and worried his lip for a moment. "Do you know who this Terrance is? Is he the right kind of guy for her? Do you think he will appreciate her and let her just be who she is? Do you think you could get a last name for me? The least we can do is a background check. Right?"

Tony patted his back, grinning. "I'll see what I can do."

….

It was late on a Saturday night a few weeks later, and McGee was reading a book. His meditations of late didn't lend themselves to video games and he'd become curious about the many unread books in his cramped apartment. He was deep into _Blink_ by Malcolm Gladwell when there was frantic knocking on his door.

He frowned at the time on his cell phone and got up. He looked through the peephole and his eyes widened. The minute he opened the door, she pushed by him. "I have so much to tell you!" She said as she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his futon.

"What's going on, Abs?" He let her pull him down beside her.

She took his hands. "You should've seen him. His name is Terrance. He is so sweet and cute. I've spent the last three weekends with him, but it was today that I really knew I was in love."

"I don't understand. Are you telling me that you're in love with someone?"

She smiled into his face. "I think I am. I really think I am."

"Abs, I know I hurt you, but do you really think I'm the guy for this conversation?"

She touched his cheek. "Of course, you are. I had to meet him to know if it was possible. Now I know. Now I understand how it's all going to work."

He pulled away. "I can't be your buddy for this. You need to call Ziva. She'll want to hear all about this guy."

She reached for him, pulling his face toward hers. "She's already met him, and she thinks he's perfect for us."

"For us?"

She smiled. "You didn't really think I could go out and find someone to replace my McGee, did you? It can't be done."

He shook his head. "I'm really lost here."

She pulled out her phone and scrolled to a photo. He took it from her and saw a small boy with dark eyes and a toothy smile. "This is Terrance?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"What's going on here?"

"Timmy, I'm here to stake a claim. You belong to me. I'm not giving up until you understand that."

"You want me?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice throaty. "You and I are going to grow old together. I knew it even that night that you told me about your mutated gene. None of that mattered. I guess I just needed time to understand how to make all of our dreams come true."

He searched her eyes. "I'm confused."

"We both want children. You'll be the best dad. I know that, but I understand your reluctance to have biological children. I started thinking about adoption, and then I stumbled on Virginia's Waiting Children. It's a program for kids who aren't infants. They've been taken from their families because of abuse or neglect, and they need new families. These are the kids that are the last to be adopted. I wondered if we could be the kind of people who were special enough to parent kids like this. I looked into it and I learned that I could become a respite provider, and that's how I met Terrance. He's three years old, and he was a crack baby and his mom lost custody. He's really active and happy, but he gets into everything and he has huge tantrums when he doesn't get his way. I take him on Friday nights, and I bring him back to his foster family on Saturday nights. He's a lot of work, but he's wonderful too. He has the smile, and he loves to sit with me and read books. I know that this is a lot to take in, but I thought maybe you'd want to meet him next weekend. I think the two of you would be great friends."

She watched him closely for a reaction. "I've overwhelmed you. I came in like a tornado and just dropped this all on you. It's too much, isn't it?"

He reached over and pulled her face to his kissing her soundly before answering. "You really want a life with me? I'm not a sure bet, Abby."

She hugged him tightly. "Neither one of us really has a choice about this, you know. We're supposed to be together, Timmy. You're the other half of me."

…..

There was knocking on the door, and Gibbs looked up from his book. They'd called ahead. He was sure McGee had insisted upon it. McGee was too buttoned up to just drop in on someone for a social call. He barely opened the door when Abby burst through, all smiles, while McGee pulled up the rear with a box of goodies.

She danced about the living room. "We have news! We have news!"

Gibbs looked at McGee who was unable to hide the smile on his face. "Hey Boss, we got the ribs you like so much and all the fixin's. Do you mind if I warm them up in the oven?"

"Go ahead." Gibbs turned to Abby. "What's the news?"

"Wait 'til he gets back. Just wait!" Then he saw her cover her left hand with her right, and he felt an emotion so naked inside that he had to clear his throat to mask a reaction.

"Timmy, come in here! The food can wait."

A flushed McGee came in, a dishtowel hanging off his arm.

"Tell him! Tell him!"

He grabbed for her hand and pulled her next to him. "Boss, we got news."

"Out with it already."

McGee looked at Abby and grinned. "We're going to get married."

She thrust a hand at Gibbs. "Look!"

It was a large ruby ringed by diamonds set in gold that roped around it like branches. Gibbs only glanced at it before pulling her in for a hug. He held her tightly. "You know I don't the first thing about making a marriage work, but if anyone can do it, the two of you can."

He let go of her and, in a surprising move, pulled Tim in as well, slapping him on the back soundly. "Good work, McGee!"

McGee blushed even deeper as he pulled away. "I better check on those ribs."

When he disappeared, Abby grabbed Gibbs. "We have a problem."

"Already?"

"Look at this ring." She held up her hand. "It's too much. It's like for royalty. It cost too much. He won't say, but I know it cost too much. He won't take it back. I'll lose it. It'll fall down a drain. I'm always losing things, Gibbs. Tell him it's too much."

He took her hand. "I think it looks perfect."

"You can reason with him. He does whatever you say. Tell him we have to save money for adopting kids. We're going to adopt kids. That's not cheap!"

"Abs," He said as he turned her face to his. "It's going to be okay."

McGee appeared in the doorway. "Food's ready."

She turned to him, distressed. "The ring is too much!"

McGee ignored her. "I couldn't find hot sauce in the refrigerator. Do you have some in a cupboard?"

"Nope. All out."

"Okay, then we're set."

"Tim!" She stomped her foot.

He sighed. "The ring isn't going back. If you want a second one, I'll buy it for you, but I spent a long time finding that ring, and the moment I saw it, I knew it was for you. It's wild and beautiful- just like you. You're going to keep the ring because it's the best way I have of showing the world how precious you are to me. If you lose it, the jeweler will create the very same ring all over again. Bottom line, Abs."

She looked at him for a long moment, and then she softly said, "I love my ring."

"Good 'cause I'm hungry."

"I need hot sauce."

"Check the cupboard for red pepper flakes."

"Great idea," she said kissing him on the cheek as she headed into the kitchen.

McGee looked at Gibbs. "Tell me again that this is the right thing."

"You're seizing your life and taking control. There is no righter way to live, McGee." Gibbs patted his face as he disappeared into a kitchen punctuated by the sounds of slamming cupboard doors.

…

The End


End file.
